“When Father Knows (Best) vs. Pinocchio’s Nose”

A brief Commentary on Francesca Comencini’s film, “The Time It Takes” (“Il Tempo che ci vuole”) by John Bennison,,Mountain Shadow Director

Some of us have been fathers to one or more children. All of us have been part of a father/child relationship; some closer than others. We all have a mixed collage of memories; some fond ones, and maybe some not so good. Once a year, a day is set aside to honor fathers. But then along comes a filmmaker like Francesca Comencini, who’ll also assemble their own personal memories into a series of vignettes; re-telling of a human story to which we all might relate in some way.

Her story begins by recalling her father, a single-parent, directing the filming of a version of the childhood story of Pinocchio. “Life first, and then cinema!” he tells her. “Life first! And if you don’t understand that making films is pointless.”

While making the film, in the background there’s social and political turmoil on the television newscast. He cautions her, “There’s no such thing as bad children. Beware little one, don’t be too trusting of those who seem good, and remember there’s always some good in those who seem bad.” And, “Learn to complete things. If you fail, at least you’re aware of your failure.”

The years advance. As the daughter grows into young womanhood, the father ages progressively to the point of eventual frailty. He increasingly confronts her misbehavior, demanding only the only thing she is unable to provide; namely, honesty. Unlike Pinocchio, her nose does not get any longer as she lives out her lies; but the distance between a father and his daughter widens.

He sorts his library shelves, seeking a semblance of order in his days. It’s not enough. He confronts her with his disappointment; and her guilt, shame and self-loathing almost engulf her. So – in a tough and tender, make-or-break moment the father tells his daughter his own personal story of failure. He reminisces about a film he saw as a young man, and how it changed his life direction. “It allowed me to understand cinema would allow me to escape, through my imagination.” Then he ends with this order and promise: “Try again.” “Fail better.” Adding – most importantly -- “I will never leave you alone again.”

Personal Postlude

In my own collection of memorabilia I have a birthday card my daughter made for me when she was ten years old (below). While the reader might find it morbidly humorous, there’s nothing more for which a father might wish. And, it perfectly encapsulates Comencini’s film. jb